PS 

5515 




POEMS 



BY 



ETHEL B. GROSSMAN 



NEW YORK 
1917 



POEMS 

BY 

ETHEL B. GROSSMAN 



NEW YORK, 
1917 



F535(3 



COPYEIGHT^ 1917 
BY 

Ethel B. Grossman 






CONTENTS 



Page 

Rain 1 

Brother 2 

Oh, Lord ! Our God ! 8 

Winter * 

Snow S 

Spring ® 

In Acceptance of An Invitation to a May Party T 

Vacation ^ 

To My Mother 9 

Summer 10 

Old Glory ! 12 

On Grandma's Sixtieth Birthday 14 

The Road of Life 16 

The Prince's Xmas 17 

On Mother's Birthday, 1915 20 

On Mother's Birthday, 1916 22 

On Father's Birthday 24 

Flowers 25 

Enlist To-Day 26 

rhe Little Pumpkin 29 

The Circus Has Come to Town 36 

A Serial Story, or "The Rejected Lover !" 38 

The Fateful Letter "H" ! 40 



FIRST LINE INDEX. 



Page 

Rain, rain — all day long 1 

I have a little brother 2 

Oh, Lord! Our God!.. 3 

Winter, with its ice and snow * 

Tiny, little snowflakes ^ 

Sweet Spring is here ^ 

Anita Rice, my dear good friend ''' 

Vacation is coming ^ 

Dearest Mother, none can tell 9 

Summer, with its skies so blue 10 

See, here Old Glory floats on high 12 

Grandma is sixty ! Hurrah for to-day ! 14 

Thus have you trod together 1^ 

There once was a Prince of Brinkals ^'^ 

On this, your birthday, Mother dear 20 

To-day is her birthday — the one we love best 22 

The day is dawning bright and clear 24 

Spring — the season's pioneer 2.5 

The call to arms is at our door 26 

"Twas on the eve of Hallowe'en 29 



Dedicated 

TO 

My Dear Parents 

J dedicate these 'poems to 

The parents I revere; 
And though these lines are weak and few. 

They yet may bring good cheer. 

£. B. G. 







<HL4/'r?%''Cty>\y 



This Volume is one of a Limited Edition 
privately printed and is No. ... 



PRESENTED TO 



WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE AUTHOE 



RAIN 

Rain, rain, — all day long, — 
Rain that sings a joyous song, 
Rain that patters, rain that falls, 
On window-panes and garden walls. 
Rain, rain, — all day long. 

March, 1913. 



BROTHER 

I have a little brother, 

Who plaj^s the livelong day, 

And doesn't pay attention 
To anything you say. 

My mother said to brother 

One day, "It isn't right 
To throw bed-covers from you, 

As you do every night." 

"Why do you do it, brother?'* 

In answer he would say, 
"Because you would not let me 

Go out to-day and play." 

With all his faults, he's very nice ; 

Without him, dull and gray 
Our house would be. He adds the spice 

And brightens up the day. 

December, 1913. 



O, LORD! OUR GOD! 

O, Lord! Our God! 

Wondrous wise art Thou! 
Before Thy throne our knees we bend, 

Before Thy crown we humbly bow. 
Thou rulest the sun and all the stars 

Including the planets Venus and Mars. 

O, Lord! Our God! 

How wondrous wise art Thou! 
Thou hast created the earth 

And to the day hast given birth, 
And to the night Thou gavest gloom 

Until the stars its darkness do consume. 

Thou hast made the sun to rule by day, 

The moon to rule by night. 
But over all of them is man, 

Who found most favor in Thy sight. 
Yea, man was made to rule o'er all 

Thy creatures, great and small. 

O, Lord! Our God! 

How wondrous wise art Thou! 
Before Thy throne our knees we bend. 

Before Thy crown we humbly bow. 

November, 1913. 



WINTER 

Winter with its ice and snow, 
When the rivers cannot flow, 
When the sky is dull and gray, 
How we wish for spring-time, gay. 

Hills are slippery, 

Boys are coasting, 
Laughing, chaffing. 

Roasting, boasting, 
Down they come at 

Full speed. Whew ! 
Walking, talking, 

Skating, too! 

Though the air is cold. 
And the sky is gray, 

I am passing fond 
Of a winter's day. 

January, 1914. 



SNOW 

Tiny, little snow flakes, 
Whirling up so high, 

Tell me what you see there, 
'Way up in the sky. 

Pretty, little children? 

Golden tresses bright ? 
Are they wearing diamonds. 

Shining through the night? 

Do their darling parents 
Romp with them all day? 

Don't they ever study, — 
Do they always play ? 

Do they feast on candy, — 
Eat all that they will? 

Are they always healthy, — 
Are they never ill? 

Do they wear white dresses, — 

Sashes of all hues? 
Have they golden tresses, — 

Silk and satin shoes ? 

After all, I'd rather 

Be a human girl; 
Wearing middies always, 

With my braid and curl. 

Mother is so tender, — 

I have all her love. 
I can't really envy 

Children up above. 

February, 1914. 
5 



SPRING 

Sweet Spring is here 
With all its cheer; 
Bird on its wings 
To Nature sings 
Sweet lullabies, 
Reaching the skies. 

A magic wand 
Crosses the land! 
Snows disappear, 
Flowers their heads rear. 

Sunbeams like gold. 
Blossoms unfold. 
Wind heaves a sigh, 
Cools the blue sky. 

Hearts that were sad 
Now are made glad, — 
Happy and light. 
Bound with delight. 

Sweet Spring is here. 
Bringing good cheer. 



April, 1914. 



IN ACCEPTANCE OF AN INVITATION 
TO A MAY PARTY 

Anita Rice, 

My dear, good friend, 

To you, this brief reply, I send : — 

I'll call, on the 2nd of INIay, at one, 

To join mj^ friends in the "INIay pole" fun. 

We'll dance, play, have a joyful time 
That can't quite be expressed in rhyme. 

I do accept, with thanks galore ; 
I'll surely come, let it shine or pour. 

From your loving friend Ethel, this comes with a 
kiss, 

And I hope you won't take my poor poetry amiss. 
April, 1914. 



VACATION 

Vacation is coming. 

Why should we stay 
In musty, old schoolrooms 

On such a day ? 

The birds chirp and twitter, 

Flowers nod their heads, 
While we're in the schoolrooms 

Chewing our "leads." 

Everything seems to be calling, 

Calling us out to play ; 
Why must we stay in the schoolroom 

On such a glorious day ? 

Dear little birds and bright flowers, 
How we all wish we were you. 

Spending the gay summer hours 
Bathed by the rain and the dew. 

But, never mind, little darlings, 
We're coming ovit to you soon ; 

'Cause our vacation is coming 

And we'll play morn, night and noon. 

Oh, I'm so glad it is over. 
Vacation's a lazy, old thing! 

Oh, for the noise of the school-bell, — 
Like music, the sound of its ring. 

Oh, I'm so glad it is over. 

For, after all, school is best, 
I'm sure it's much nicer to study 

Than constantly play and to rest. 

We're all so glad it's all over. 
Vacation's a nasty, old pest. 

And now that school term is beginning 
We're each trying hard for our best. 



May, 1914. 



TO MY MOTHER 

Dearest mother, none can tell 

How good to me you've been, — 

Told me things to help me when 
I've been so near to sin. 

Led me from temptation when 

I chanced to go that way, 
Put me on the road to God 

And watched me, lest I stray. 

I'm happy to have a mother so dear. 
And for her my love is truly sincere. 
My dear, darling mother loves me, I know. 
In gladness and sorrow, in weal and in woe. 

She gently reproves me whene'er I do wrong. 
But she knows and I know that it cannot last long. 
Her dear, loving kisses, such times make me sad. 
Some hugs and caresses! Once more I am glad! 

Oh, mother ! Dearest ! Darling ! 

Our mutual love's sincere. 
I know there's not another 

So tender and so dear. 

I wish I were just like you, 

As happy and as sweet. 
I long to be right with you, 

My heart with yours shall beat. 

My love for you and father 

Is deep. I cannot tell 
What I would do without you, 

I love you both so well. 



May, 1914. 



SUMINIER 

Summer, with its skies so blue ; 
Flowers, of every tint and hue; 
Trees and grass, so fresh and green ; 
Rustic brooks rippling serene, 
Singing songs of times gone by, — 
List' now to its laugh and sigh. 
Every stream and wood and dell 
Has some secret it can tell. 

Lovers meet on shaded banks. 
Children play their youthful pranks. 

Nature has lived many ages, 

She knows more than all the sages. 

Though she teaches girls and boys. 
Nature doesn't make much noise. 

In quiet nooks, from babbling brooks. 
We learn more than from wondrous books. 

Each, its stories, thus can tell, — 
Lake, pond, river, wood and dell. 

Trees are whispering truths above it, 
Mountains teach from base to sunmiit. 

As I strolled along to-day, 

I thought of beauteous summer, gay ; 

The branches bowed, with gentle sway, 

Each leaf had something sweet to say. 

10 



Yet Nature seemed so still and sad; 
The secrets she has heard and had, 
Which ne'er perhaps will be revealed, 
Lie buried in lake, stream and field. 

How can we mortals ever know. 
From mountain's view or river's flow. 
The wondrous works of that great Hand 
Which shaped the ocean, formed the land, 

And made the sunmier bright and fair, 
With not a single grief or care, — 
Sweet summer's trees and grass and sod. 
Reminders of Eternal God! 

June, 1914. 



11 



OLD GLORY 

Written on the raising of the American Flag at Sagamore Hotel, 
Long Lake, N. Y., July 4th, 1914. 

See, here Old Glory floats on high ; 
It's banners seem to touch the sky ; 
It's white and crimson bars wave o'er 
Our dear old Hotel Sagamore. 

It makes us think of days gone by, 
When soldiers, without tear or sigh, 
Courageous, honest, strong and brave. 
Beneath this flag their lives they gave. 

The Fourth of July, '76, 
"Our boys" wished for a "Fourth" like this: 
With strife forgot — guns laid aside — 
This, when the spirit of war had died. 

'Twas then this dear old flag was made, 
And o'er the graves of soldiers laid ; 
But now we have one here again ; 
It seems to bring good will to men. 

To-day the Fourth we celebrate ; 

To do so we can hardly wait, 

With love and joy, with cheers and pride 

For soldiers who, for freedom, died. 

The caps and crackers make a noise ; 
These and sky-rockets are the joj^s 
So dear to hearts of girls and boys ; 
The cannons used are only toys. 

12 



But don't forget that flag so dear 
When on the Fourth you loudly cheer. 
We love it with a love sincere, 
At home, abroad, afar or near. 

Hurrah! Hurrah! The dear old flag! 
Let's give it with a vim and will. 
Let's give the cheer that makes us glad. 
And have it heard o'er plain and hill. 

July 4, 1914. 



13 



ON GRANDMA'S SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY 



Read at a dinner given by Mrs. Fannie Berliner on the occasion of 
her 60th Birthday at the Freundschaft Society on September 12th, 
I9I4. 



Prologue 

We hope you'll all enjoy to-night, 
In fact, we know you will, 

So come, join in with all your might. 
And eat and drink your fill. 



Grandma is sixty ! Hurrah for to-day 1 

Let all of us, young and old, laugh and be gayt 

For, though she is all of sixty years old. 

You never would know it unless you were told. 

She's as happy and blithe as though "sweet sixteen" ; 

A capital sport, — none better you've seen. 

At least all her grandchildren think this is so. 

And they're pretty good judges, I'd have you all 
know. 

To-night she is giving a party ! Hurray ! 

I'm sure I'll remember it when I am gray; 

And when I'm a grandma, I'm certain I'll say, 

"The best time I had was on Grandma's birth- 
day." 



14 



In this place, so full of cheer, 
Is our hostess, Grandma dear; 

The "Belle of the Ball" she is to-night; 
Fannie by name, but "Belle" by right. 

She's always modest, sweet and kind; 

In everything can pleasure find. 
She lives with us, I'm glad to say, 

And hope she will for many a day. 

So now, we'll all congratulate 
My grandma, on this happy date ; 

With one accord we'll give three cheers, 
And one for each of sixty years. 

We hope you'll live to celebrate 

Of birthdays many more. 
And pledge you now, the solemn vow 

To cherish, love, adore. 

September 12, 1914. 



15 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 

Written on her parents' Wedding Anniversary, June 28th, 1915. 

Thus have you trod together 

The rocky road of life. 
Through fair and stormy weather. 

With pleasure — without strife. 

Some rocks beset your pathway, 

And trouble lay ahead, 
But still you clung together 

And did what God hath said. 

And so you were rewarded, 

For happy shall you be ; 
And so shall your two children. 

On your anniversary. 

You've had your smiles and laughs and tears, 
These fifteen long but happy years; 

We wish you increased joy and pleasure. 
And happiness in greatest measure. 

We now congratulate you both, 

And wish you health and bliss. 
And seal these happy verses with — 

A great big hug and kiss. 

Your children love you dearly, 

And now they want to say. 
They wish you what you wish yourself. 

On this great gala day. 

Thus have you trod together, 

The rocky road of life, 
Through fair and stormy weather, 

With pleasure — not with strife. 



16 



THE PRINCE'S XMAS 

I 

There once was a Prince of Brinkals, 
Who grew weary of Xmas day, 
He was tired of banquets and balls 
With dukes who had nothing to say, 
And came only for presents and such. 
But did not enjoy themselves much. 

II 

'Twas on the night before Xmas— the Prince 

Lay fast asleep in his bed ; 

In his dreams dukes and banquets did pass, 

All seemed muddled up in his head. 

In his deep sleep, the Prince did say : 

"In my realm there shall be no Xmas day!" 

Ill 

When the heralds proclaimed the royal decree. 
Such were the sights that one did see. 
That it made one's very blood run cold. 
The children's grief was sad to behold. 
And the people began to weep and say : 
"What shall we do without Xmas day?" 



IV 

The Prince, sleeping peacefully and serene, 
Was in the midst of a beautiful dream. 
When he suddenly heard a tinkling bell, 
(And now I've something strange to tell.) 
The sleeping Prince got a terrible scare. 
For what do you think he saw, standing there? 

17 



A Xmas elf, dressed all in red, 

He stood one foot from the Prince's bed. 

He jumped up and then hopped around, 

And the bell on his cap made the cheeriest sound. 

It went tinkle, tinkle, as if to say : 

*'To-morrow shall be Xmas day." 



VI 

He approached the Prince and made a bow, 

And then the elf began, "I trow, 

You're the sellishest boy I ever did see, 

I'd like to put you across my knee 

And give you thrashings, one, two, three, — 

Oh! What a different boy you'd be!" 

VII 

And then he gave the Prince a cloak. 

"But not another word," he spoke, 

"The cloak's invisible, and so 

We'll creep outside — no one will know. 

Come," said the tiny elf, "and see 

What sadness was wrought by your decree." 

VIII 

They flew over treetops and housetops, too, 

Until the Prince was frozen blue. 

He saw children moan o'er their terrible fate, 

And the sights, as it was later told. 

Made the royal blood of the Prince run cold. 



18 



IX 

When the Prince reached home, he thanked the elf. 
And told him he'd not think of himself, 
And then ordered annulled the royal decree, 
And the rejoicing that followed was good to see. 
The same dsij the Prince gave a banquet and ball, 
And then it seemed not to bore him at all. 



And all the children, from far and wide, 

Were within the castle at eventide; 

For the banquet great on Xmas day 

Had been given for them. And all did say. 

As they left the palace, cheerful and bright, 

"A Merry Xmas and Happy Day, 

To you, dear Prince, Good Night, Good Night I" 

December 25, 1915. 



19 



ON MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY 

I 

On this, your birthday, Mother dear. 
My heart doth overflow for you ; 
My love has been instilled so deep, 
No love can be more pure and true. 

II 

Thou has't been my idol, Mother, 
In the past, now, and for aye! 
None could live up to thy standard, — 
For thy happiness, I pray. 

Ill 

Thou, who art a child of Heaven, — 
Picked and chosen from the rest, — 
God bestowed on you, my Mother, 
Gifts — the rarest and the best. 

IV 

See how Fortune blest the children 
That were born, dear, unto thee ; 
Gave to them the jewel of Heaven, 
Fairest gem of earth and sea. 

V 

Thou has't wondrous heart and soul ! 
Tho' some say that "Love is blind," 
Thine's a perfect, flawless, nature — 
None, in thee, a fault could find. 

20 



VI 

Do not think this idle chatter. 
These words are sincere and true ; 
Mother, thou art pure and noble. 
Nothing's good enough for you. 

VII 

May you have, on this, your birthday, 
Happiness and endless bliss; 
May I give you, as a climax, 
Congratulations — and a kiss! 

December 6, 1915. 



21 



ON MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY 

I 

To-day is her birthday, — 
The one we love best, — 
The sixth of December 
In east and in west. 

II 

Greater than Washington's, 
Lincoln's, or The Fourth, 
It should be proclaimed 
In the south and the north. 

Ill 

To us it is something 
More than just the date. 
A day that for months 
We anticipate. 

IV 

We celebrate it — 
Just we — in our home. 
And will do so, we hope, 
For long years to come. 

V 

To our Mother darling, 
We owe this great day ; 
A sweet and a precious gift, 
We'll try to repay. 

22 



VI 

With great care and love, 
We will treasure her, too. 
Forever will serve her. 
With love, pure and true. 

December 6, 1916. 



23 



ON FATHER'S BIRTHDAY 

The day is dawning bright and clear, 

The greatest day in all the year 

— for us. 

Oh, Lord, we thank you for this day, 

And may we the great boon repay 

— to you. 

May this, his birthday, in us all 

The good that is in him install 

— to-day. 



He is so generous and so kind. 
To people's vices he is blind 

Congratulations all extend — 
A god, a father, and a friend. 



-a saint. 



— to him. 



By all is worshipped and is loved, 

By all his virtues sung and said 

— alway. 

To all a helpful thing is said, 

Square and honest, earns his bread 

— by work. 

May we to him a blessing bring. 

May all the world his praises sing 

— for aye. 

February 18, 1917. 

24 



FLOWERS 



Written for Flower Service of Sunday School, 
Temple Emanu-El, May 20, 1917 



Spring, — the season's pioneer, — 

Most joyous time of all the year, 

Has come. And, with it, birds and flowers, 
To cheer our hearts and deck our bowers. 



II 

Flowers yield color and perfume, too, — 
Sweet to smell and good to view. 

They need the sunshine and the shower, 

And prove God's goodness and His power. 



Ill 

They give us love and joy and peace. 

Oh! may these blessings never cease. 
May this Spring bring to us, once more, 

Eternal peace — and end the war. 



25 



ENLIST TO-DAY 

I 

The call to arms is at our door, 
The U. S. A. is now at war; 

And every man will do his bit 

Shoulder his gun and pack his kit- 
Go off to warl 



II 

Our boys go marching down the street 
In rain and sunshine, snow and sleet ; 

They're off to practice and prepare 

To fight in — God alone knows where. 
Fight for the flag! 

Ill 

Whom does the flag fail to enthral? 

Who will not hear his country's call? 
The slacker sure will be disgraced, 

His name and memory effaced. 

Buck up, boys, fight ! 

IV 

Our boj^s, bent on accomplishment. 

Go out to meet death, quite content ; 

Their shout is "Freedom of the Sea 

We fight for God and Liberty!" 

They're unafraid. 



The mothers sad, with shoulders bent. 

And tear-stained faces, must content 
Themselves with just this single though t- 



That boys who for their country fought, 
Are blessed in heaven ! 



26 



VI 

Just think! We live in deeds not years. 
The fight is on both hemispheres. 

Who dares our country to defy ? 

For her we'll conquer, or we'll die — 



Blessed country! 

VII 

Battlefields bloody, bodies diseased, 

Towns are destroyed, and cities are seized; 

Houses are burned and churches are sacked, 

Old men and women and children attacked — 
Horrors of war! 

VIII 

And now our country's in it too ; 

We'll strive together and fight it through. 
Which of us fears the submarine ? 

Columbia's brain is sharp and keen 

We'll clear the seas ! 



IX 

America will find the key 

O'ercome the menace of the sea; 

She'll build some wonderful machine, 

Then — "Good-night, German submarine." 
Good-bye, forever! 



X 

Amidst it all, the President 

Is calm and firm and competent 

"The rock on which the storm will beat." 

God bless him 1 He won't brook def eat- 
Our President! 

27 



XI 

We've got to help the allies through, 

France helped when we were hard pressed, too. 
It's only fair and just and right 

That we should now help her to fight 

For Freedom! 

XII 

We wish the world to understand 



We seek no wealth, we want no land ; 
But Justice and Democracy 

Must govern all, on land and sea 

Poor Germany ! 

XIII 

We do not hate her people, no ! 

Her autocratic rulers, though, 
Who plunged them into this abyss. 

We think they should at once dismiss— 
For their own good. 

XIV 

Now, buck up, boys — go and enlist. 

Show 'em your spirit — and your fist ! 
Let them all see you've got some grit ! 

Now go ahead and do your bit 

Enlist to-day ! 

May, 1917. 



28 



THE LITTLE PUMPKIN 



A Play 

IN 

Three Acts 



29 



Cast of Characters 

The Little Pumpkin (Boy) Wm. H. B. Grossman 

Ghost Anita Rice 

Witch Ethel B. Grossman 

Scenes 

Scene 1 In the Witch's House 

Scene 2 In a Pumpkin Field 

Time:— 12 P. M. Hallowe'en Eve 

Scene 3 All's Well That Ends Well 

Time : — Hallowe'en Morn 

Produced at 

"Stratford- Avon" Theatre, 
October 31st, 1914. 



30 



Prologue 

'Twas on the eve of Hallowe'en, 
When this quaint little play was seen. 
'Tis not as big as plays should be, 
The actors being only three. 
The actors are the authors, too; 
Don't criticise aught that they do, 
But please sit quiet and you shall see 
How brief a Hallowe'en play can be. 



31 



Scene I. 
In the Witch's House 

Witch : 

Hokus pokus pro melokiis! 
Hokus pokus dro kilokus ! 

{To Pumpkin) 

Thou wert once a little boj^ — 
Had a book, a game, a toy. 
Had a mother, sweet and kind. 
Whom you sometimes didn't mind. 
But your greatest fear of all 
Was of something white and tall. 
Such as ghosts, so gaunt and thin,- 
So you're changed to a pumpkin. 

Pumpkin: 

Something big and white and tall 
Made me lose my parents and all. 

Ghost : 

Aye, that person was myself. 
With the help of little elf. 

(Pointing to Pumpkin) 

You were taken from your toys 
From j^our parents and your joys, 
And you shall remain as now, — 
This I solemnly avow. 

32 



Witch: (To Pumpkin) 

As I said to you before, 
You are changed to a pumpkin. 
If now you will learn witch-lore, 
You'll get back to all your kin. 
This is what you'll have to learn. 
Or your freedom you'll not earn: 
You must never get a fright 
From a big, long thing in white. 

(To Herself) 

For I know that mean old ghost 
Would, of all things, like the most 

(Pointing to Pumpkin) 

To keep him captive all his days 
And miss the joy of parents' praise. 

Ghost : 

My thoughts she knows ; my plans are new. 
And this is what I mean to do : 
In nature's fields, at dead of night. 
When pumpkins are all sleeping tight, 

(Pointing to Pumpkin) 

I'll come and give him a big fright. 
For he does not know me by sight. 
I'll come and tap him on the head ; 
I'll weave a spell; and from his bed. 
He'll wake up with a stare and start, — 
Then woe to the old witch's art ! 

33 



Scene II. 

In a Pumpkin Field 
Pumpkin: 

See, now I've grown so big and tall, 

I'm not a bit afraid at all. 
Ghost: 

Is that true? Ho! Wait and see. 

You're not a bit too smart for me. 

Maybe you think that you'll not scream; 

That might be true, but this I deem 

Still truer : The witch's spell I'll break. 

E'en if it one whole year should take! 
Pumpkin: 

O, I'm so scared ; 'tis the form in white. 

It's awful ; 'specially at night ! 

( Ghost approaches and weaves charm over Pumpkin's head. ) 

Ghost : 

Grilly, pilly, milly, lab ! 
Dilly, filly, silly, sab! 
You shall always, ever, be 
A pumpkin and belong to me ! 

(Witch coming into field, looking at Pumpkin.) 

Witch: 

Poor little thing, forgot my warning. 
But look, the day is not yet dawning. 
The clock has not yet struck the fatal hour ; 
To change the ghost's charm still is in my power. 

34 



{Chanting in low tone over Pumpkin.) 

Ish, kish, mish, sish! 

Tish, rish, mish, grish ! 

You shall again be a little boy, 

You shall be honest, bright and true, 

You shall stand bj^ the red, white and blue, 

What your parents say you shall always do. 



ri 



jtHOst : 



Scene III. 
{All join in ring and sing.) 

We hope you liked our little play, 
'Twas written in a half-a-day. 

Pumpkin : 

We've tried our best to give you fun. 
Especially your little son. 

Witch : 

So now to all of you good-night, 
We'll all sit down and have a bite. 

Finis 



35 



THE CIRCUS HAS COME TO TOWN 

Reprinted from Horace Mann Record, December, 1915 

THE fire was burning brightly, and the sparks tripped 
gaily along the winding stairway of smoke up the chim- 
ney. Grandpa was dozing before the fire, in his favorite 
chair, a newspaper before him. Suddenly he was startled by 
a loud whoop, and in came Bob. 

"Oh! Grandaddy, what do you think? The circus is 
coming to town next week and I'm going. There's going to 
be bears, an' elephants, an' pop corn, an' monkeys, an' pink 

lemonade, an' " Here Bobby stopped short for breath, 

and looked at Grandpa, his face full of excitement. 

"Bosh," said Grandpa, emphatically. "A circus is trash, 
pure and simple trash. I once went to one and " 

"Oh, do tell me about it," begged Bobby, who was willing 
to listen to anything about a circus just now. 

"Well," began Grandpa, "I will never forget that day, 
even though I didn't enjoy it much, you know. I remember 
the posters had been put up, all different colors. There were 
pink bears, and blue lions, and ever so many things printed 
on them. We boys just couldn't wait till Circus Day came. 
We saved our pennies two weeks ahead, so we could have a 
jolly good time when the circus did come. The first day all 
the animals marched up the street. Such a sight I had never 
seen before! Monkeys and bears, lions and tigers, and the 
clown turning summersaults all the way. Gee! I can see 
them now, people waving, boys shouting; all throwing their 
caps up, and screaming at the top of their lungs. It was 
great. Later we all went into the tent. The bare back rider 

36 



dressed in bright green was riding around the ring. The dogs 
were doing tricks. Boys were seUing peanuts, pop corn, and 
pink lemonade. I was so excited I just stood up, waved my 
cap, and screamed. When it was all over I went up and 
shook hands with the clown and the bare back rider, and felt 
as proud as a peacock. Oh! I had the time of my young 
life," declared Grandpa, slapping his knee enthusiastically, 
his eyes twinkling, and his face aglow with the thought of it. 
"Oh, Grandaddy, that was ripping," said Bob. "I only 
hope my circus will be as nice." 

"By the way. Bob, 1 think I'll take you to the circus my- 
self to-morrow," said Grandpa. 



37 



A SERIAL STORY, or "THE REJECTED LOVER" 

Reprinted from Horace A'lann Record, November, 1916 



H 



ELEN looked eagerly at all the paper stands on her 

way home from school, to see if the latest B 

magazine was out. She did so want to finish that 
story, and a month certainly seemed a long time to wait. Ah, 
there it was ! She was a trifle disappointed in the cover this 
month, but then what did that matter? Just think of all the 
thrills that picture was hiding from view! Helen hurriedly 
drew, out of a small leather purse, the last precious quarter 
of that week's allowance, and without any outward sign of 
reluctance, handed it to the man and hurried away with the 
magazine rolled up tightly, tucked under one arm. 

She ran home half the way, rushed up the stairs and stood 
breathless for a second on the threshold of her room, all the 
while unbuttoning her coat, which she threw together with 
her hat upon the bed. Then she slammed her books on the 
desk and, having acquired a box of chocolates from some 
secluded place, sat down in a rocking chair, and opening the 
magazine, partook of the monthly treat. 

She ran her finger down the table of contents. There it 
was! It seemed to stand out to Helen in letters of gold, 
"The Rejected Lover," page eighteen. That magazine would 
roll up so! And the pages seemed to stick just on purpose! 
Now she had it — page eighteen! "The Rejected Lover." 

Yes, the heroine was just where she had left her last 
month, "sobbing disconsolately for the vanquished hero. 
Enter villain." Helen read on and on enthralled. Her eyes 

38 



skimmed across the page with such rapidity that even her 
Enghsh teacher would have stared in astonishment. "She 
made several vain attempts to free herself from the grasp of 
the villain, when " continued on page twenty-six. 

Helen uttered a sigh and tried in vain to find her way 
through Colgate's Ribbon Dental Cream, Ford Automobiles, 
Crex Rugs and Campbell's Soups. The pages were so sharp 
that she cut herself several times. Victrolas seemed to have 
no end, and it was impossible to even eat your way through 
Sunshine Biscuits and Jello. Finally she saw page twenty- 
six. Oh, dear, it was stuck to twenty-seven! Well, now she 
had it— continued from page eighteen, "The hero, then, at 
the crucial moment, threw open the door and rushed on the 
villain " 

Helen read on excitedly. Her cheeks burned and her 
eyes were bright. "Enter third party." Helen's expression 
changed, and tears rolled down her cheeks as the heroine 
scorned her beloved hero and gave her love to the other man, 
whom Helen had no use for as he wasn't tall, and didn't have 
dark, curly hair and blue eyes like her idol. Well— there 
was no accounting for the taste of heroines— but how could 
they be so stupid, she mused. Then she read on. "The re- 
jected hero turned to go, when all of a sudden" — continued 
in next month's issue. 

PARIS GARTERS 
WRIGLEY'S SPEARMINT GUM 

Helen closed the magazine with a long-drawn sigh, and 
wiped away the tears shed for a tall, rejected lover with 
curly, black hair and blue eyes. 



39 



THE FATEFUL LETTER "H" 

Reprinted from Horace Mann Record, February, 1917 

BRIDGET stood by the kitchen stove with the peel of 
an apple in her hand. She turned to see if any one was 
near, then she took it up carefully, so as not to break 
it, and threw it over her left shoulder. She stood as if rooted 
to the floor for a moment, her hands clasped tightly. "Oh, the 
Saints be blessed !" she ejaculated. "Sure, oi'm afraid to look. 
Me future husband might be starin' me in the face." She 
caught her breath and turned quickly. There, on the floor, 
the apple peel had formed the letter "H" as plain as day! 
Bridget burst into sobs. "And all the time I wuz wishin' it 
would be L," she repeated over and over again. Then her 
voice trailed off into little inarticulate murmurs, and she 
fell asleep. 

"But, Bridget, we wuz to finish our courtin' a year come 
next Saint Swiven's, an' then you said we wuz to be " 

"Lemuel, if you don't stop talkin' I'll throw a kettle o' 
bilin' hot water at you. The loiks o' some presumin' people ! 
The Saints has told me the initial of the man Oi'm ter marry 
— and yours ain't it!" 

"I've hearn you say that fer the last half -hour. I ain't 
af eared of no water, and you said we wuz to be mar " 

"Lemuel, get out o' this kitchen, and be careful how you 
go. I jist finished scrubbin' me floor, and it ain't for the loikes 
of you to be a-trailin' it up with mud. Now git!" 

The door slammed. Bridget began to stir the dough 

40 



vigorously. "Oh, by the blessed St. Anthony," she mur- 
mured. "Why wasn't it 'L'?" 

About twenty minutes later, as she shut the oven door, a 
clump, clump, clump was heard coming up the steps. Bridget, 
being in a better frame of mind, having let out her feelings on 
the cake, went to the door. There she saw a very shame-faced 
Lemuel. He stood on the top step, twisting his hat and 
getting redder every minute. 

"The Saints be praised," said Bridget. "You usually 
ain't so pertikular or polite. Come in, and shet the door 
behoind yer." 

She sat down. Lemuel gingerly selected a chair and sat 
down as near as possible. Thereupon Bridget promptly lost 
her domineering manner, blushed, and turned the other way. 

"Now, Lemuel," she began, shyly. 

Lemuel, seeing her face grow red, took courage, and 
began — "I've been walkin' a mile jist ter come back an' tell 
yer somethin', Bridget. Yer know — yer see — wal — er — er 
— I reckon I didn't tell yer. They've always called me 
'Lemmie,' but my christening name is — HEZEKIAH." 

"The Saints be blessed!" ejaculated Bridget. 



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